Everybody's Working for the Weekend So That They Can't Do Anything Fun, Ye-ah!

So those aren't exactly the lyrics to what stands as THE anthem of shitty work weeks and the immense amount of fun that SHOULD follow on those two wonderful days known as Saturday and Sunday (and Friday night, while we're at it). But the last few weekends have been less than sensational (with a few notable exceptions). Being a school teacher is hard, it isn't worth the money, and you only do it because you have an enrmously large heart, like me (insert sarcastic response at your screen here). And so it stands to reason that school teachers, more than business men or lawyers or doctors, deserve to spend Friday night through mid-Sunday in a state of toxic inebriation. And for the first weekend, I did. (This weekend has been discussed in a previous blog, the one in which there is a picture of me looking to seduce a taco as if it were Elisha Cuthbert and Mila Kunis rolled into one.) I work diligently every weekday, teaching as if Jesus H. Christ himself is coming back to save my filthy soul, and every night I peek towards the weekend with eager anticipation, waiting, hoping, wishing...

And every weekend it seems, something happens. Something completely and utterly unbelieveable at the wrong moment, the wrong time. Let's take this weekend for example.

Friday early evening - While taking a deep nap to prepare for the weekend ahead, two friends enter my home, scream for me, decide I'm not there, and leave. And since I didn't own a phone, I spent the rest of my night sitting in my home, staring at the wall. Okay, not really. I played guitar.

(¡I have acquired a guitar. A wonderful, wonderful person had one just lying around that they never used. So I took it, tuned it, and made sweet, sweet, sweaty music with it. And it is fantastic and sounds wonderful and makes me so happy that it pretty much has wiped away all my problems. Okay, not really, but you know! [I love having a Spanish keyboard because I can make upside down exclamation points and you can't {unless you live in Mexico}¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡])

Saturday afternoon - So at the repeated behest of said guitar giver, I broke down and went all 16 year old giggly girl and bought a phone. Like, totally. So, I'm like at the mall, minding my own business, just buying a phone, when - WHAM-fucking-O! Mexico went all loco on me again. The pain radiating from my body doubled me over, brought tears to my face, and sweat beads to my face that were the same size as those that probably roll down the crack of this man's ass. It was intense, to say the least. And, God bless the wonderful lady at Telcel who was trying to show me all the function's of the phone and what not, but I had to be a dick. I rolled my ass into a cab and went back (for the second time in three weeks) to the emergency room. Long story short (again), they took tests this time and I have an infection. Not some contagious hubabalu, mind you, but some kind of infection. And so they put me on medication that costs 130 pesos a pill (about 9.00 US). Per pill! But these pills would give an elephant difficulty in swallowing and when I take them, it's like taking drugs, but less WOOOO and more UHHHH. Heavily, heavily sedated. So nice.

But anyways, plans for the evening were ruined by this fact (as well as the fact my wonderful guide and said guitar giver were in a car wreck and although they are very thankfully fine, their car and my usual ride was mangled like a stroller under a garbage truck).

However, I was able to get out last night and see The Ugly Truth, with Katherine Heigl and Gerard Butler (I know, not my choice). But it was actually pretty good, and made better by the fact that it wasn't all PG-13 chick flicked. It was rather raunchy. In fact, half the theatre were guys (albeit probably dragged their against their will). And Gerard Butler is the man. He basically played the exact same character from 300, but instead of slaying mutated elephants and tranvestite, hermo-war lords, he slayed the ladies. A lot of ladies.

I also ate once again at Tacos Laredo, which is delicious food at a reasonable price. The campechana is delicious. And my previously mentioned plan to mutilate my tongue to the point I can eat fire and not blink must be working, because I had to ADD more spicy sauce last night. Oh my God...I'm becoming a Mexo-Gringo.

And before I go, what tops off my weekend? Oh, that's right. My computer finally keeled over. After six years of co-existence, she's finally pushing up the daisies. She has tripped the light fantastic. She is an ex-computer. So sad. I wanted to make a beautiful Power Point montage of our life together, with maybe some Amazing Grace in the background, but I don't have Power Point, because it's on my dead computer. Yeah, so, anyways. I can use a computer at school, but that is limited use (except for this long entry I'm writing).

And finally, for those of you who do not know my good friend Seth Elder, he is a Fulbright Scholar in Macedonia that I went to school with for four years. He is winding down his stay there and has started to reminisce on his time there. His journal is of incredible quality, fervent in its humor and poignancy. And he's in a really cool fucking place. Check it out: http://sethelder.blogspot.com/